Blood Red Roses
by Ariala
Summary: A wedding. Your typical angsty unpredictable AAMRN/BAMRN (Come on, show a little love people!)
1. The Blood

Blood Red Roses

**Blood Red Roses**

Author's notes: It's been a while, hasn't it? Well maybe this is your usual AAMRN/BAMRN - I don't know. You'll have to read to find out :P

A great thank you goes to Mark ^_^

--- 

The chosen blood red Roses. 

Tiny dewdrops on Snowdrops and luminous lime green leafs. 

Baskets and flags and sagging tents. 

Wedding cake, sweet cakes, cream filled eclairs. 

Long carpet, tall hats, fold-out chairs. 

Misty's delicate silk glove gripped around the flimsy cover for her tent. She had been examining everything through nervous eyes for the past half hour. 

_"It might be another hour or so, you can wait in your tent until then."_

She remembered them telling her. 'Certain' difficulties involving the cameras had occurred. This was an example of a time when she wished Ash wasn't so famous. A wedding with just their family and friends - that sounded romantic to her. 

The guests waited patiently enough in their place. They sat and entertained themselves with gossip and complaints. She searched through their faces for a hopeful moment, but then turned away. She knew her efforts would avail fruitless. He wouldn't show his face here, not now. 

_"You don't look happy to me."_

His words came back to frustrate her. Of course she was happy, she was marrying her _one_ _true love_. Marriage. What more could she hope for? She'll have a brilliant life, with an enormous mansion of a house. They'll have two - no, _three_ cars and she'll be the envy of every woman. Misty swallowed hard as she felt a throbbing lump form in her troat. She wiped the moisture that was beginning to solve in her eyes. 

"I _am_ happy, I _will _be happy." She objected painfully to the sound of his haunting voice. Frustration was making her shake, and she surrendered to a breakdown into tears and sobs. Looking out there again made her nauseous. Finding her way up with the aid of a chair, she escaped by lifting the cover at the back of her tent. 

She found herself in complete wilderness. It seemed her tent was situated right on the edge of all their decorative destruction of the Forest. Viridian Forest - it had sounded romantic to her. 

She stepped through the untamed grass, which held all sorts of botanical treasures beneath it. It all seemed new to her, and she felt angry that she had to get married to come back to the Forest again. It was amazing. Just like the patches of untamed grass, but you could experience its treasures for yourself. 

After finding a place hidden from the distant crowd, she rested on the fallen log of a tree. She pulled up the end of her dress from the ground, the heap of material exploding into laces and frills on her lap. She might love the surroundings, but they were far too able to lift hell's shadow onto her heavenly white dress. 

_"Will you marry me?"_

The memory of her acceptance sprung to mind. That question had been her childhood dream. He had been her hopeless crush, it had always been an everlasting blush. It had actually come true. Ten years. For ten years she had been feeling sick over him. How could she say no to this boy, asking her to spend the rest of her life with him? Twirling, laughing, rosy red faces, taking her into his arms. Of course she said yes. 

The rest of her life. 

The words were too frightful to utter. It made her cry, and lingering on it made her cry harder. If she loved him, why didn't she want this? Why didn't it feel the same as it did when she was fourteen? She had everything she ever wanted - _everything_ she _ever_ wanted served to her on a silver platter, and she didn't want it anymore. Why was she lying to herself. Why couldn't she be fourteen again? 

"But I love him..." She mumbled to herself, and felt her skin shake and shiver with her bones. 

_"But I love you!"_

Why did _his_ words mean so much? Why did he make it so clear for her? Maybe she _could_ have lived this life with Ash, why did _he_ have to interfere? No one else did - everyone else assumed she and Ash were in love. Why couldn't he be like everyone else? 

_"I'm getting married."_

She remembered how cold he looked after she told him. No unexpected death could bring that look back to his face. She didn't want to hurt him. But saying he loved her hurt Misty more than he'd ever know. 

"Misty!" 

A roar arose from where she had just escaped. 

"Misty!" 

What was she going to do? 

"What in the name of God are you doing out here?" A woman appeared from behind the green coloured scenery. Misty recognised her well. She was one of the many organisers of the wedding, who had been pestering her for months. 

Misty picked herself up, but clumsily toppled over the log beside her. "Be careful there!" The woman reached out and pulled Misty to her feet. She then led Misty in the direction of the tents like a mother leading her child. "My God, Mrs. Ketchum, you shouldn't be out here in the middle of nowhere, you'll destroy that beautiful dress of yours!" 

Misty narrowed her eyes at the babbling figure in front of her. "My name isn't Mrs. Ketchum. My name is Misty." 

The woman spun around and lay her hands on Misty's shoulders, acting like a comforting friend. "You're not having any... _doubts_ now, are you Mrs. Ketchum?" 

Misty glared in disgust at the woman's look of concern. _Doubts?_ She couldn't stand there a minute longer. She shook the woman's hands from her shoulders and ran ahead as quickly as she could. She was free from her, but the tents and the people awaited her now. 

She felt her heart fall to her feet as she tugged at the bottom of her tent. Another terrible waiting session to overcome. As she pulled the cover over her head, her eyes focused on something unexpected. 

"B-Brock?" Misty felt a warm excitement fill her. He smiled, mirroring her expression. A short pause, then they came together to share a tight embrace. Maybe she had grown angry at him over his absence, but seeing him washed all her aggravation away like a wonderful wave. 

"Misty, I didn't mean to say any of that," He said close by her ear. "I'm so sorry, of course you're happy." Brock relaxed his arms around her, and she slowly slid away. 

"No Brock, I--" Misty stopped short, and turned away from him. "You were right." She said quietly, as her voice began to crumble. He took a step closer. 

"What?" He asked gently. 

She turned toward him again, her face dimming with a look of sadness and fear. "I can't do this." Brock felt his heart break into pieces, as her tear glossed eyes gazed up at him. "I don't think I--" She stopped herself again, her strained voice becoming barely audible. 

He allowed her to fall into his embrace again, and she rested her worn head on his chest. Brock thought to the sad melody of her quiet sobbing. He had everything he wanted in his arms, it was the deepest pain to know he couldn't have it. If only he'd realised that earlier. 

"Do you remember when we were kids Misty?" 

Misty whimpered softly as a sign of her attention. 

Brock exhaled slowly, and with his hands he gently smoothed her back. "I liked you a lot." 

Misty managed a relaxed but delicate chuckle as she patted his chest playfully with her hand. "Why didn't you say anything?" She asked with a slight ring of surprise in her voice. She raised her gaze up to him with a smile. Brock grinned inwardly. He must have liked every girl _except_ for Misty back then. But any lie was worth telling if it could sooth her pain. 

"I didn't say anything because..." He thought carefully for a moment. "I think Ash needed you." He looked to see the effect he had caused. Her face brightened, highlighted with hope filled eyes. "He still needs you." 

Her eyelids fluttered downwards, moving another teardrop down her cheek. "Thank you Brock." She reached her arms around his neck and pulled her head over his shoulder. "Thank you." She whispered again, and turned her head around to see him. 

Brock turned to her aswell, and returned her smile. "You're welcome." Misty kept the smile, and didn't make an attempt to move. "Y-you should get ready." Brock insisted hesitantly, feeling her closeness kill him. She closed her eyes and lightly tapped her lips to his skin. 

She moved away after no more than a second, leaving Brock paralysed. "Our first kiss." He joked nervously. He stretched his shaking arm behind him, then took hold of her hands. "Go on, get yourself ready." He told her, keeping their joined hands between them. 

"And our last." She said to him. Brock shared the musing moment until they both twitched with reality. She looked down at herself. "I'm ready." She grinned. 

Brock looked directly at her. Her wedding gown was in full view now, but there was something urging him to act. "And I've never seen you look so beautiful." He said using his arm to twirl her around like a ballerina. 

She stopped, facing toward him; it was too late for thinking. 

He was kissing her. Kissing Misty, and feeling her return his kiss -- all of it. 

But it was far too late. 

"Brock." A voice sounded in angry disbelief from behind them. Ash stood at the tent's entrance with fierce dark eyes, staring at Brock with horrific devastation. 

Misty's hands slowly slid out from his. Brock couldn't believe his bad luck - it was only a few moments that he was telling Misty how much Ash needed her. Ash just had to choose the time at which his character had surrendered, feeling pathetically weak at the knees. 

Ash approached his friend, and shoved him away with the force of his outstretched arms. "I can't believe this!" Ash growled, still engaging Brock. 

"Ash, please, wait a minute," Brock said nervously, trying to back away. 

"Why should I?!" Ash snapped back. 

"B-Because it's your wedding day," Brock stuttered in reply thoughtlessly. He only bite his tongue upon seeing Ash's fist rocketing toward him. He ducked down in instant panic, swinging backhand defensively. 

There was a clash of tightened flesh and bones. Ash tumbled to the floor. 

"Ash!" Misty cried, falling to his side in a wave of shock. 

Brock gawked at his floored friend in disbelief. "A-Ash, I..." He could barely speak. His bones shook and his skin twitched in horror. 

Misty looked up from Ash to the frozen mass above her. "Brock, go get a cloth and some water." Brock broke his stare to glance at her, then dejectedly left through the cover. 

---

Author's notes: Hehe. Well, don't worry about me completeing this, I actually have the second piece already written. I just like to have cliffhangers... although it's not really a cliffhanger, but don't you want to know what happens next? *silence* Ok then ^_^;; Anyway, I'll post the next part tomorrow night. That's afternoon for you Americans. Until then, see ya!


	2. The Roses

Untitled Normal Page

**Blood Red Roses** - Chapter 2

Author's notes: Oooo. Aren't you excited? Well, I am. It's my birthday today and I'm going to London tomorrow! C-ya ^___^

---

"Are you alright Ash?" She asked him with concern. She focused just below his eye, where the skin was throbbing a glowing red. 

"Ugh, where'd he go?" Ash grumbled in confusion. 

Misty gently placed her hand on his temple. "Nowhere. Does it hurt?" She asked, leaning in for a closer look. 

Ash propped himself up slightly, and looked around. "Where's he?" He repeated dazedly, blinking repeatedly. 

"_Nowhere_, now settle down." She insisted forcefully, and began removing the gloves from her hands. 

Ash dropped down backwards, gazing at the tall ceiling above him. It was striped blue and white, and the stripes warped inwards at the center; they led to a distant shaded area. The left side of his face was screaming with pain, and it seemed to bulge outward below his eye vision. 

The only feeling he had, besides the pain, was anger. Anger opposing his best friend - his best man. He looked to Misty's sudden movement. She had gone to the cover of the tent, and was looking outside with searching eyes. 

She sighed heavily. "No Brock." She said wearily, and began rummaging through her belongings. 

"This'll have to do for now," She rested down beside him again, with a bottle of water in her hand. She dampened a single glove and brought it to his face. "I'm no expert, but I'm sure silk feels better than cloth." She smiled lightly, continuing to dab it against his skin. 

Ash accepted her nursing aid, relaxing as the chilled moisture cooled his bruise. He looked at the face beside him. Eyes filled with deep concentration, lips pressed into a firm position; until they'd break into a smile - just for him. Somehow he knew saying 'Thank you' would be worthless. 

When she had finished, she placed the glove beside her and kissed his bruise better. "I think it'll be fine now." She examined him once again, and then stood up to her feet. 

Ash awkwardly rose up aswell, brushing his black jacket with the back of his hands. He stopped to find Misty watching him calmly; he wasn't accustomed to her pure, angelic appearance. 

"I've never seen you look so beautiful." He reached out and touched a lock of her hair, moving it across her bare shoulder. 

Misty remained still. His words were like a weight of guilt on her mind. Why had he stolen the words from Brock's mouth? She hated its empty meaning. She felt his eyes continue to look at her, but they soon became distant; he was looking at nothing, no one. What felt like a kiss from his lips touched her cheek, and he proceeded to turn around, making a move towards the exit. 

His intentions became clear to her. "Ash--" She cried. "Don't go after him." 

He reluctantly turned to her again, his hand still hovering over the tent's cover. "I won't hurt him," He told her. "too much..." He mumbled under his breath. 

"Ash, please don't." She rushed to take a hold of his arm. "You've already gotten hurt - don't make a show in front of all those people." She argued. 

"Misty, I j--" 

"Ash." Her grip had tightened, and he was lost in her pleading eyes below him. "Please." 

He exhaled his tension into the air and let go of the cover. "Well, we should get going then. Are you ready?" 

Misty felt faint. "What?" 

"Are you ready?" He repeated slowly. 

Her eyes fell to the ground. The same sickness came over her again - she had to deny it, she had to swallow it down this time. Ash was standing right beside her, waiting for her to say yes. 

_He still needs you._

She thanked Brock, only a million times in her head. He always helped her - she always needed it. But everyone needed her now. Everyone needed her to follow the dream she'd hidden for so long. She couldn't say no. 

She raised her head up again, looking into the eyes of her fiancé. "Whenever you are." 

---

Brock looked continuously at everything she had wanted for her wedding. He didn't see Ash anywhere - he hadn't suddenly recovered from the hit and returned for revenge. Maybe he had cooled off... The cloth! Brock jumped up from his relaxed position. 

He had strained his thoughts and emotions so much; he had forgotten the one thing she had requested of him. How could he be so stupid? It was one thing after the next. 

He turned to look at the tent they were occupying. Of course, it was still possible to remember the things he had just done: kissed Misty, punched Ash. But he found it somehow impossible to know what was going on inside that tent. 

He lost his breath as he imagined them emerging from behind the cover. 

"Excuse me, are you not the best man?" 

He turned to see a frustrated looking woman. 

"Yes, I am." Brock replied. 

"Come on then, you're late." She turned on her heels, expecting him to follow behind her. 

He did, skipping steps to keep up with her fast pace. "I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to be late, I w--" 

"No need for apologies," She interjected quickly. "We need to get the Bride and Groom first." 

Brock gulped as they rushed up between the two square shaped crowds. All this could be worthless now because of him. He was terrified as he joined the other Groomsmen at the top of the aisle. 

"Hey Brock, what took you so long?" Richie moved towards him. 

"Oh, I just got caught up in things..." He trailed off into mumbles, his eyes drifting to the long tunnel in front of him. 

Gary smirked from beside them. "You were off with one of the bridesmaids, weren't ya?" 

"Shut up Gary." Brock grumbled moodily. He was off with the Bride. But of course, it was more than that. A lot more. 

Richie grinned, but his look soon became serious. "Why is he always late?" 

"Don't worry, he's just putting on his make-up." Gary joked. They both laughed and continued talking, but Groomsman number 1 was isolated with his thoughts. 

He wouldn't be surprised if Ash was putting on make-up; it'd cover up the bruise that he had given him. He massaged the skin on his face with his long fingers, stroking downward. His skin was hot and dry. This was hell.

Everyone's excitement was burning him up inside. Every second prodded another image of Ash sprinting up the aisle and calling the whole thing off. Cameras would flash! The whole tragic moment would be captured in eternal life! It would be printed on the front page of every newspaper: 'Ketchum wedding halted!!' 

Brock stopped massaging and stilled his quaking face with his palms. 

The reasons would probably never be known. Everyone would just assume it was Brock - The Best Man and 'The Lady's Man' - he stole the bride all right. But Brock knew he wasn't a womaniser. It was just impossible for anyone to believe Misty could fall out of love - especially with Ash Ketchum, The Pokémon Master. 

"Brock!" 

He looked up again. It seemed as if others were constantly interrupting his thoughts. "Hmm?" 

"Brock, I just remembered where you need to be." The woman had made her way upto him again. But he was confused. 

"Sorry?" 

"You're giving Mrs. Ketchum away," She said. "How could we have forgotten that?" 

"Aww, ya lucky guy!" Gary jabbed Brock's arm playfully. 

Brock ignored his gesture. "Mrs. Ketchum..." He repeated to himself. Had the wedding taken place already? Hope was lost before he could find it. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" 

"Did you get much sleep last night?" She joked with a smile, before leading him down the aisle. 

Brock followed her incoherently. Sleep? He didn't get a wink of sleep last night. Last night was only 48 hours after he had fought with Misty - 12 hours until the wedding - and 24 hours until Miss. Waterflower would be Mrs. Ketchum - how could he possibly sleep? 

"Now, the Bride should be here any second, you just wait here for her. I'll give you the signal." The woman disappeared, and Brock was left standing on his own. He looked around. He was behind all the heads, all the chairs. He could see Gary and Richie making conversation a hundred chairs ahead at the stage. 

It suddenly hit him. 

He _was_ giving Misty away. How could he have forgotten that? He remembered weeks and months ago, when everything was the way it should be; a couple and their friend were discussing the wedding. 

_Who's going to give me away?_

She was wrapped up in Ash's arms some way or the other. It didn't matter to him back then. 

_What about Brock?_

Ash suggested. Ash hadn't the best knowledge of weddings, and it was a strange arrangement; the 'planning committee' had objected to it at first. Afterall, Brock's place as Best Man was already cemented in the ground. But Ash and Misty's words were final. 

Brock had accepted this assignment of course. For so many years he considered himself to be their guardian, maybe they saw it like that aswell. Now that they didn't need him, they needed each other. Watching them today - that was supposed to be the last stepping stone across a wide river. But somewhere along the way he had stumbled and fallen. Now the task of leading Misty up the aisle was a heavy burden rather than a pleasure. 

"Brock." 

That voice could never interrupt his thoughts. 

"Misty, I..." His words trailed off. He watched as she took her place beside him. A few heads were turning at this point, finding the sight of her irresistible to the eyes. 

"Ash is fine now, it's OK." She told him gently. She tucked her arm in underneath his and beamed up at him. "I'd forgotten you were giving me away." 

Brock stood stiffly. Something was wrong. 

It wasn't just the feel of her pressing his arm, or the fact that their last meeting had ended with a kiss. It was the smile painted on her face, painted over sorrow. She was concealing pain and fear; he had seen it in her tears. Now everyone was seeing a new face. 

"I was just going to say that I'm sorry." He told her. He still had time. He had his eye on the woman about to make signals at them. 

She smiled at him again. "Brock, it's alright. I told you--" 

"I'm not talking about Ash." 

Her smile disappeared, but she showed no surprise. The face underneath her smile knew his meaning already. "Don't be sorry about that." 

Her words confused him. He hesitated with a reply, a question. He had an urge to ask her why not, but it just seemed stupid. "Yes, you're right," He mumbled. "It was nothing - you guys are getting married and that's all that matters." Brock said in soft candor. 

Misty looked at him again ruefully. "I didn't say that." 

Brock caught sight of the signal woman - flapping her hands frantically. "What?" 

"I'll always love you Brock." 

He looked to her unchanging expression, there was warmth; there was the sweetness of truth. 

He longed to open his mouth, to break through this dream; but he looked up ahead, hearing the sudden explosion of sound into the air. Violins played, reaching his ears like underwater currents. He instinctively began walking with the rhythm, Misty following along at his arm. 

The surroundings were surreal, so much beauty, so many people. 

But his skin tingled, his face was frozen with shock, and his heart was aching with pain. That was real. 

Each step brought him closer and closer. He dreaded the melody's end. 

"Thank you." Misty mouthed as they reached the top. She slid her hand down to his and secretly held it. 

She slid away a second later, Brock moved aside quickly. That must have been the longest leap between stepping stones ever. 

They had rehearsed this scene a million times before, but he'd never been so anxious to stand beside his best friend. Ash didn't look at him twice. His eyes were fixated on his beautiful bride. 

Throughout the ceremony, the cold sweat gathered on Brock's hands. He jingled the two rings inside his pocket nervously. It was the biggest lie of her life, and she kept it to keep everyone else happy. He was feeling the pain that she was hiding. 

Why couldn't she make herself happy? Make him happy... 

"I do." 

Brock had given up the rings now. He was feeling numb. He had lost her. 

And as they joint together for their kiss, Brock moved his eyes to an arrangement of roses close by. 

Blood red roses. It was her choice. 

---

Author's notes; Well, I have one thing to say. You're lucky I wrote the two pieces together before showing it. Because you _know_ I wouldn't have finished it ^__^ I give up all the time, what can I say - I'm a loser. heh. ^_^;; Anyway, getting back to the story, how'd ya like it? I know, I know, it sucked. And I know, I know, poor Brock. But poor Misty aswell, and if you want to go even further, poor Ash, and poor Gary, and poor Richie, and poor Woman person, and of course poor Pikachu - I didn't even put the little critter in this ;P ha.


End file.
